


what if we never know why hearts deceive us

by stargazed



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Affairs, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Daenerys and Viserys are protective, Eventual Jon Snow/Robb Stark, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, It's just Jon thanks, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon is a vibrant kid, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, R Plus L Equals J, Robb Stark is colder than the North, Robert Baratheon is king, Sexual Content, the targaryens are good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazed/pseuds/stargazed
Summary: Robb and Jon were promised to one another, ever since they were in their mothers' wombs. Despite their parents' efforts, they do not get along, and they would do anything to not be tied to each other for the rest of their lives. Perhaps they made a terrible mistake when minds are made up.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> well i came through with an actual story, instead of series! it's quite short because it's a prologue, but the chapters that follow will be longer.

Two households, Targaryen and Stark. One lived in the South, the other in the North. Both were united by the marriage of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. They lived happily ‘til both women were expecting around the same time, they were ecstatic. So, they made another arrangement. If one of their children was an omega and the other an alpha, they were to be wed to each other. It seemed like a brilliant plan, the alliance between the two houses would remain strong. The two babes were shown to each family, unaware of each other’s presence when so small and vulnerable.

Both children seemed to be doing fine in each other’s presence ‘til they reached the age of six. They had already developed their own personality, and both their personalities didn’t correspond well with one another.

Jon was a loving boy who batted his eyelashes a few times too much in Robb’s eyes while Robb was quite distant towards everyone except for Theon Greyjoy who he could show a small smile to. Their dismay stayed concealed underneath layers of false modesty. They were toddlers, but they knew how to play by the proper rules that their parents had set.

Jon wore a polite smile whenever he shook hands with Jon while Robb forced a little smile on his lips, while they pressed down on each other’s hands with a crushing pressure. But their disdain with each other bled through their whole façade when their parents decided to visit each other more often.

Jon had rolled his eyes once and was reprimanded that he shouldn’t roll eyes to anyone, that he should keep his manners. Jon’s parents were loving, but they also wanted this unison to happen whether Jon liked it or not. So, Jon could only hope that they were not going to be presented as an omega and an alpha.

Jon’s uncle and aunt on the other hand, they had tried desperately to talk his parents out of it. They didn’t want their nephew to be married with someone he didn’t love, despite that most marriages happened in that matter.

“What if he is subjected to abuse?” Viserys asked his brother incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest as he intently watched his older brother with sharp eyes.

“Robb Stark isn’t a tyrant, he is a boy, he is the son of an honourable man. He won’t put his father’s name to shame.” Rhaegar sighed, he had been listening to Daenerys’ and Viserys’ displeased words for a couple of weeks now. He was growing sick and tired of their sharp tongues about the arrangement, “I rather want to hear none of it anymore.” He added.

“I hope for the sake of yourself and those Starks that he doesn’t present as an omega because then this conversation is far from over.” Viserys spoke before walking out of Rhaegar’s solar. He walked towards the gardens to see Jon flat on his stomach in the dirt, not caring that his expensive silks were going to be ruined. Viserys frowned before walking closer as Jon pulled away with something on his finger.

“Uncle! Look a ladybug!” He chanted excitedly before his eyes landed back on the little insect that was crawling over his index finger. The older man shook his head as a smile appeared on his face of how sweet Jon was. He was fearing that Jon would present as an omega and would have to be bound to that Robb kid.

“Have you been digging up insects again?” Viserys asked as he helped Jon up once he let the ladybug step into the mud. He started to rub the dirt of Jon’s silks who shrugged his shoulders with a slight pout on his face. He started playing with the strings on Viserys’ tunic that was in silk as well.

“When is aunt Dany coming back?” Jon asked with his innocent grey eyes staring into Viserys’ eyes who sighed once more. He crouched down to be on the same level as Jon who had a pink tint dusting over his cheeks. He showed a soft smile.

“She is coming back very soon. She misses her nephew. But you better get cleaned up because your mother won’t be happy.” Jon just nodded his head before running off with a giggle when Viserys pressed a soft kiss against his head. He watched Jon bolting away with the brightest smile on his face.

He was so young, only eight. Viserys remembered when he was five and had returned from Winterfell. He didn’t tell his parents, and he had stayed polite throughout the whole visit. But when Viserys and Daenerys asked how it went, that’s when tears came sliding down his face. It was the most horrible time for the toddler, Robb had been ice cold despite Jon trying to befriend him. There was nothing they could do but hold him through the tears.

Years had passed and Robb only grew colder, he didn’t want this marriage. He knew what he wanted, he wanted to be married to a woman. He never really hurt Jon physically, but he did manage to make the boy cry sometimes. Robb couldn’t stand how achingly sweet he was towards everyone. It seemed like the boy never knew any grief, and he didn’t. He had both his parents, a loving aunt and uncle, it would be perfect if he found a fitting partner.

Alas, they were both stuck with each other. Robb knew Jon didn’t like him either, and they both prayed they weren’t going to present as what their parents wanted. But that horror struck when Jon experienced his first heat when he was twelve and had to leave Winterfell earlier than expected.

Robb was grateful that he didn’t come anymore, nor that Robb had to go to Dorne. Robb tried his best to keep convincing his parents that he didn’t want Jon. By the time he was thirteen, he had rutted into an alpha. No one expected any different from him.

He had grown rapidly, there was no doubt about it. His parents were elated with the news while Robb blamed Jon for being an omega, and Jon in return blamed him. Jon had sunken into the mass of pillows on his bed when his parents had told him the news.

Years passed once more, and Robb was eighteen and there was still no sign of Jon.

He nagged his way out of the marriage eventually. He didn’t know whether it was only his doing, or the fact that the Targaryen’s started to become distant towards the Starks, but either way, Robb was happy with this decision. His parents could seek any woman out, and he would marry her.

Jon was allowed to choose his own alpha after they heard that the marriage was cancelled, which made his uncle and aunt satisfied as well. Both houses remained at peace.

Everything was well, or so they thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon groaned when the light seeped into his room blinding him as he slightly peeked from his arms. He rolled over, trying to seek the right position to fall back to sleep in. His bed was large, so he could roll around to find a cool spot to lie in when the heat became suffocating.

He let himself sink into the pillows once more ‘til he felt his sheets being yanked off his body which made him squeal, “who in seven he-“ he cut himself off when he saw his mother staring at him with a piercing look, “you better not finish that sentence young man.” She reprimanded which made him roll around to get away from her tugging hands.

“What is it, mother?” He asked as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. He stretched his arms making the muscles in his shoulder blades visible, “Has aunt Dany returned?” He asked before getting up to grab an almost transparent robe to wrap around his body.

“She hasn’t. But she promised that she would attend the arrival of the Starks and the Baratheons.” She said which made Jon stare at her with a little smile on his lips. Truth be told, he wasn’t looking forward to the arrival of any of those families, but he did look forward to seeing his aunt again, Daenerys who was more on the road than she was home.

“Forgive me, mother. But why are the Starks coming over again?” He asked before running his fingers through his curly locks. He wanted to be polite, but when the image of Robb Stark circled in his mind, he just got a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Robert is your uncle’s good friend, and they might join their houses by letting Joffrey wed Sansa.” She answered. She noticed the slight shift from Jon. He wasn’t fond of the idea, yet he tried to keep his face solemn as to not disappoint or upset her, “I thought I told you this.” She added with a squint of her eyes.

“I might’ve forgotten it.” He answered meekly before worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He was quite submissive when it came to his parents after the engagement with Robb was called off. He nodded his head to every decision that was made regarding him, luckily, his parents still allowed him to pick out his husband. To their frustration he turned each noble man that asked for his hand down.

He got dressed and joined his parents and Viserys in the Hall for breakfast. He was seated far away from his father, and close to his uncle, Viserys who glanced at him with a knowing look. He cut up his scrambled eggs before staring at Jon who raised his eyebrows, “what do you say, nephew, want to spar with your uncle?” He asked.

Jon straightened his spine when he noticed that he was slumping, “I don’t know. Mother said that I should be well rested for tomorrow. I was planning on retreating to the library.” Jon said loudly with the intention of his parents hearing it.

Rhaegar waved a hand in the air that seemed to shimmer with all the rings that adorned it, “a round of sparring wouldn’t hurt you.” He answered which made a grin appear on Jon’s face.

Breakfast was rather silent apart from the screeching and clanks of cutlery against plates. There was also the occasional order from one of them to one of the servants. Viserys tried to start a conversation, but Jon was too immersed in his food rather than keeping the conversation going while his parents seemed to be deep in thought about their guests that arrived tomorrow.

When Jon excused himself to spar with his uncle in the yard that’s when his father opened his mouth, “Jon, I would like a word with you first.” Viserys stared at his brother who gave him a nod for him to leave the room. Jon glanced towards his uncle who walked out of the door before stepping a little closer towards his parents.

Lyanna stood up herself before running a tender hand down the side of his face with a soft smile on her lips as she walked out of the room as well. Jon turned his head to watch his mother leave before curtly turning his face back towards his father who beckoned him to come closer.

Jon shuffled towards him with his grey eyes wide open, “sit down.” Rhaegar said as Jon complied. Jon never dared to open his mouth much around his father. It wasn’t necessarily because Rhaegar was strict or stern, not at all, he never even raised his voice at his son and laying a finger on him was already out of question.

Jon didn’t know how to react to his father, despite always wanting to follow his father around when he was a little boy. When Jon presented as an omega that’s when he started to distance himself from his father. He couldn’t find an exact reason why he reacted that way, he just did.

“Has your mother told you that her family is coming tomorrow as well?” He asked as Jon softly nodded his head, “yes.” He muttered before his eyes met the lavender ones from his father.

“Good.” He just muttered before tapping his index finger against his upper lip as a silence fell over them for a few moments. Jon glanced towards the door since he wanted to train with his uncle, but he didn’t want to sound rude towards his father, so he stayed nicely seated with his hands folded in his lap.

“I expect that you show your best behaviour, despite your fall out with a particular Stark.” Rhaegar said, his tone was playful which made Jon flush as he glanced towards his father once.

“Of course, father.”

“The only important person for you to keep your attention on is Stannis.” He added which made Jon’s head perk up before biting down on his lip. He wanted to ask his father what he was like, and the reason why he asked for Jon’s hand. But Jon assumed that it wasn’t for any titles or positions, he was the brother of the king after all.

“And I want you to stare at him without prejudice, so you can extract a conclusion about him yourself.” Jon inclined his head before staring once more into his father’s eyes, his hair slightly fell in front of his eyes, “I am certain that you won’t disappoint me.” Rhaegar said which left Jon with a few questions before he swallowed thickly.

Rhaegar patted his son’s folded hands with a small smile on his lips before getting up from his seat, “well, I suppose your uncle is waiting for you.” And with that Rhaegar’s footfalls bounced off the walls in the hall while Jon stayed seated when the door was pulled shut behind his father’s spine.

He was confused as to what he could disappoint his father with. He knew that Jon always behaved well, he never put a toe out of line, and he was raised to be well mannered. He was impeccable when it came to courtesy and manners. He always made sure that he looked his finest. He never did anything that brought their house to shame.

Maybe his father stood on it that he would agree to marry Stannis because he is family of the king. Maybe he just wanted his son to open his heart for once instead of turning down anyone that stepped foot in the castle. Maybe Jon was overthinking this all, and his father didn’t mean anything with it.

Jon sighed before getting up from his seat to walk out of the hall to meet with his uncle.

* * *

 

Cutlery clattered against the metal outlines of Robb’s plate as he watched his siblings shifting and chatting with anticipation to see the Targaryen’s back while Rickon was left feeling indifferent about all the names that fell from their lips.

He was only a babe when he met Jon, and after that he never returned and left the toddler with only tales about him and his family. He stared at Arya with a lost look in his eyes while his siblings continued to talk excitedly unbeknownst of their little brother’s feelings.

Robb on the other hand was in a quite good mood, despite the fact that Jon had been the subject of almost every conversation the last couple of weeks. He swallowed the last piece of cheese down before staring at his father who was talking to one of his men with his thin lips forming into a light smile that made the other man ramble on.

He heard hushed giggles which made him advert his gaze to two maids who were tucked away in a dark corner while holding their hands in front of their mouths. They were quite conspicuous, or Robb hadn’t been immersed into the conversation that much which resorted him into being observant to his surroundings. The two maids had their eyes on him, not even ashamed to stare right in his face.

He narrowed his eyes at them as they immediately stopped with their whispering before smoothing out any creases in their skirts and scurrying in the other direction. Many rumours and gossip had fed itself on Robb’s reputation, but the one that was most passed around was that he was frigid. He hadn’t glanced towards any girl that crossed his path, it raised some suspicion.

“Robb, a word.” His father said curtly before moving away from the table towards the courtyard with Robb following. They heard clangs of steel on steel of the smith forging a sword as sweat dripped from his forehead, screams of children running amok and the neighing of horses.

Ned stopped right next of the stables where they were preparing the horses for the long journey to Dorne, “father.” Robb grunted out as his father’s face held deep lines that were only creasing deeper with every year that passed.

“You are to be wed to Margaery Tyrell. There’s no need for your hostile behaviour towards Jon now. Make this stay enjoyable for everyone.” He told his son who crossed his arms over his chest before straightening his spine, so he was as tall as his father.

“I shall try my best, father.” Ned gritted his teeth before nearing closer towards Robb.

“You will, and you will personally give the present we have prepared for him.” His father pointed a finger to his face which made Robb’s face grow even colder.

“I will.” Robb repeated loudly before his father patted his shoulder with a heavy hand which made Robb suck in a breath. His father walked passed him as the last thing that Robb saw of his father was the ends of his cloak.

His jaw tightened with pent-up emotions before he yanked his body around to see his father talking with one of the stable boys, not even glancing towards Robb.

* * *

 

Jon sat himself into the bath, tipping his head backwards while leaning it against the edge of the tub while a servant tangled their fingers into his hair. He closed his eyes as the servants worked on getting him ready for the arrival of the Starks who were arriving earlier than the Baratheons. Jon didn’t mind, he liked the pampering of it all.

The rising and falling of his chest slowed down as he eased his mind – ridding himself from any thought that might disturb him.

He wanted to present himself as unbothered as he could. He wasn’t a child anymore; Robb Stark’s words would fall on deaf ears if he even tried to open his mouth. How high and mighty he must feel now that he was going to marry a woman. Jon had heard him enough when they were children, he had told Theon enough about it, that he always would want a woman above Jon even if she was lowborn. Anyone was better than Jon. Gods it had shattered his heart to pieces right there and then.

But he didn’t want to feed his childish dislike that he had been brooding on for so many years anymore. There was more to the world than heartbreak, if it could be considered that since Jon only wanted Robb to like him to make it easier for them both. He wasn’t even certain if he wanted to fall in love with an ass like him, he only wanted to do his duty.

His hand came down hard on the edge of the tub where another hand was placed from a servant who yelped. They quickly tugged their hand away which made Jon alert before his eyes widened at his mistake, “my apologies!” He quickly said with guilt written all over his face in an instant. He quickly took a delicate hold of the woman’s hand, seeing an aggressive red mark appearing.

He ran a soft thumb over her hand, “forgive me.” He softly muttered before staring at her face as she just showed him a polite smile. She slid her hand from his grasp before getting up to fetch his clothes.

Jon sighed before leaning back into the tub as the fingers returned to his hair.

* * *

 

He was dressed in the thinnest, gauzy shirt before being put in cotton breeches which followed with a long, silk tunic that was cut deeply at the neck that it showed off the shirt that he wore underneath which you could practically look through, showing off his chest.

Thin silver rings got slid onto his fingers which made his hands look elegant and slender. He had been completely shaven since that’s what he liked most as he slid the pads of his fingers over his bare cheeks which made him hum in satisfaction.

The servants fussed over him, making sure that every crease was out of his tunic and that he looked impeccable for their guests. He showed them his gratitude before one of them pulled the door open from his bedchamber which made him glance towards the one next of him who nodded.

He reluctantly stepped forward before he breathed out. He relaxed his shoulders and kept his spine straight before he walked out of the door, and down the steps.

His heart made a leap when he heard the deep voice of his uncle before the one from his father followed. He swallowed the lump that was rising down quickly.

They were here, and he was late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so far up jon/robb's asses you don't even know


	3. Chapter 3

The heat was unbearable on Robb’s skin, the sun scorched on all of them as it shone so brightly in such a clear blue sky that hardly held any cloud and not even released a puff of wind. The celestial flaming globe made the world around them draped in molten-gold. Only the plants seemed to resist the flares, allowing their bright colours to show.

Robb resisted the urge to swear when he felt his tunic pricking against his chest as he pressed his fingertips into the fabric before slightly shifting them.

He couldn’t bear the stickiness, but it would irk his nerves even more when he would manage to irritate his skin by wildly clawing at it.

It was a relieve to feel the shade the castle had to offer when they all walked inside. The heat was less suffocating, but still distinctively present.

They were met with a warm welcome – it was all smiles, tight hugs, and chatter of it being a long while.

Robb felt like a stranger – silently watching them all from a far while he silently disappeared into the canvas. Even Viserys, Jon’s uncle, had a smile from ear to ear on his face as his tongue was swift in talking.

He inhaled deeply feeling the wet patches of his own sweat that clung onto the fabric of his clothing rubbing against his drying skin which made him cringe.

The servants flooded into the castle with all their luggage that they hauled off the carriages and horses.

Robb’s eyes caught sight of a silhouette descending a flight of stairs with cautious steps. He adverted his gaze before he could even properly drink in the sight of the person.

But his eyes were fast to restore themselves on the graceful silhouette who was so light on his feet that it almost seemed as if he floated into the room.

“Uncle! Forgive me for arriving late.” Jon’s soft voice rang through Robb’s bones ‘til the marrow.

“How have you been?” Ned asked as Jon embraced him briefly before gazing at his uncle with a squeeze of his hands.

“I have been well.” He answered politely before moving to embrace his aunt with not much words.

Arya couldn’t hold herself from launching herself into his arms which made Jon’s eyes sparkle with joy when he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame.

Sansa tried to be polite and graceful by a short-lasting hug but held onto him a little longer with an exuberant squint of her eyes.

Robb wanted to sink through the glazing marble floor rather than greet Jon. He crouched down to greet little Rickon who flushed when he received attention of someone he didn’t know.

He was only a mere infant when Jon visited them for the last time.

Jon managed to get a little shake of his hand before Jon straightened himself. He turned towards Robb with only a remnant of his sunny smile.

But he still felt a cold shiver run down his spine when Jon’s eyes met his which left a tingling feeling behind just above his tailbone.

Jon’s eyes became glazed as he stared at Robb, his eyes took him in completely. He had grown so tall while Jon was almost a head smaller. His shoulders and chest looked tinier when he stood next of Robb.

“Cousin.” He breathed out before sliding his hands from his elbows to his shoulders to remain there for a while.

They stared into each other’s eyes momentarily before Jon pulled him closer for a small embrace. He pressed his face into the boiled leather that covered his shoulder. His hair tickled against Robb’s nose, and his scent immediately awakened his senses.

Jon had difficulty keeping his legs from trembling when the strong scent of the alpha penetrated his nostrils. He tightened his grip around Robb’s neck which made Robb view it as on old wound that never truly healed, the itch was still there to scratch ‘til it was tender.

He quickly pulled away when he felt the warmth of Robb’s hand on his shoulder blade.

A timid smile curled onto his lips before he wanted to turn away, but Robb cleared his throat with a little tap of his crooked finger against his bottom lip.

“House Stark has prepared a present for you.” Jon quirked his eyebrow before he glanced at his father who tipped his chin while the corner of his lips pointed downwards.

Before anyone could ask any questions, Robb was handed a small white ball covered in fur by a servant before held his hands out to Jon.

Ruby red eyes stared back at him before a little whimper left the pup’s throat. His pitch-black nose wiggled in curiosity before Jon took him in his arms.

“It’s a direwolf.” Robb informed as he stared at Jon who didn’t seem to lend an ear anymore to anything he said.

His fingertips ran from between his eyes to the back of his neck which made the little pup wag his tail once. Jon could feel the corner of his lips curl upwards.

“A direwolf?” Lyanna asked incredulously before her narrowed eyes met the ones from her brother.

Ned sheepishly smiled, his wife had given him a piercing stare as equal as the one his sister was giving him, “we found the pups nestled close against the corpse of their dead mother close to our borders.” Eddard explained.

He tried to ignore the stare of Lyanna that was sharper than the edge of a blade.

“We couldn’t let them die, aunt Lyanna.” Bran squeaked before staring at her with his big brown eyes that could make the most cold-hearted man melt.

Jon didn’t miss the soft stare Robb gave his little brother, but it didn’t last long before his eyes grew bored once more.

His mother smiled at Bran before scrunching her nose, “of course not.” She answered with a motherly smile that only held warmth.

Jon cradled the little wolf close to his chest as he felt his heart beating fast against his hand which made him rub behind his ears.

The pup leaned to the touch with an idle blink of his eyes.

“And Jon is half a Stark, so he needed one of the direwolf pups.” Arya piped which made Rhaegar pat her head.

Viserys peered over Jon’s shoulder to stare at the small creature curled in his arms. He wrinkled his nose in uncertain revulsion at the sight of the animal.

He was a fascinating little thing, but he also had his remaining instincts which he will act on once full grown. It made him not fond of the idea of letting that little beast twirl around Jon.

But he wasn’t going to spoil Jon’s present by his concern, so he just folded his hands in front of him before eyeing Robb with suspicion.

The oldest Stark boy seemed to break out of his incognito state as his eyes more than sporadically fell back on Jon.

He felt a sharp poke in his lower spine which made him bit down on his bottom lip. He turned his head to stare into Theon’s eyes who shook his head knowingly, it wasn’t a playful nor teasing shaking of his head, but rather indicating Robb that he needs to quit being so obvious.

Their parents decided on visiting the gardens together, it was, after all, a beautiful day. The children could do as they please. Rickon immediately slid his hand into his father’s as he walked along.

Arya immediately ran off towards the yard where men practiced their skills as Sansa wanted to find a quiet spot to work on her embroidery.

Theon took a hold of Robb’s elbow before tugging him away from Jon and Viserys who had small talk about Daenerys’ absence which etched a frown on Jon’s forehead.

“will you stop?” Theon hissed as he watched Robb straight into his blue eyes.

Robb furrowed his eyebrows, “stop what?”

Theon breathed loudly through his nose before moving his eyes frantically towards the corner of his eyes towards Jon’s direction, “you are gaping his clothes almost off his body.”

Robb snorted loudly before glancing cautiously towards the curly haired male that seemed to be more invested in the talk with his uncle, “as if.” He muttered quickly.

His auburn curls slightly bounced when he gazed at Theon’s face as the other quirked his eyebrow, “he just,” his teeth grazed his bottom lip as his mind tried to muster the right words, “he has changed.”

The Greyjoy rolled his eyes in an obvious manner, making sure of it that Robb had taken notice of it, “he is not a twelve your old boy anymore. He has presented into an omega which his body will shape itself to. But his personality has remained the same, so get that thought out of your mind.” Theon rapidly whispered.

“What thought?” Robb immediately asked as he glanced towards Jon who had a slight pout on his lips before being guided slowly, with a supporting hand on his lower spine from his uncle, towards the gardens.

Robb’s eyes and body absent-mindedly followed as Theon took a hold of his wrist, “the thought you have in your mind right now.” He accusingly said with his neck growing slightly red.

It was hard to keep your voice low while he wanted to raise his voice to get some sense into the young alpha.

It strained his vocal cords as well.

“If you assume that I want him, then you are wrong. I want Margaery, and I am marrying her.” Robb said aloud which made Theon duck his head in his shoulders with a pained look on his face.

But a cocky smile formed on his lips when he heard those words, “that’s good to hear.”

Jon couldn’t hold himself from sulking while still holding the pup close. Daenerys wasn’t present, and it made him worry. His uncle had told him that she probably had run into a minor inconvenience, nothing to worry about.

But he was worried, and he had been looking forward to seeing her back. He hoped that she was fine and would arrive by nightfall at least.

He ran a soothing finger over the spine of the tiny pup that had his red orbs hidden behind his closed eyelids. He genuinely loved the gift the Starks gave him.

He was certain that he would grow attached to the little animal sleeping against his chest.

Jon sat himself down on a stone bench underneath a tree, so it could give him enough shade. He placed the curled-up form of the pup on his lap.

He could hear birds chirping their songs and the faint sound of people talking; each raising their voices higher than the other, to get a grasp of someone’s interest. Jon could also distinguish the slight sound of the fountains spewing out water elegantly as it streamed into the pool beneath it.

He closed his eyes for a mere second as his mind drifted towards his greeting with Robb, he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want to stay a little longer in his arms.

He would, of course, never admit it nor say it aloud.

Robb Stark was vile, cruel and cold. Jon did not feel attracted to him, and nor would he ever feel that way.

It was his raging hormones, he told himself. He just wanted an alpha, doesn’t matter who. He was almost positive that he would react in the same manner if it were Stannis.

He tickled an ear of the pup which made him whine and flick his ear before curling more into a little ball, “you are sleepy, the journey must’ve been exhausting for you too.” He mumbled with a tilt of his head to the side to get a better look of the pup’s face.

His snout was moving slightly, making it glisten because of the reflection of the light.

Jon couldn’t help but let out a fond chuckle. He placed his hands next of him, on the bench as he squinted his eyes due to the flaring light that stung his eyes.

It was such a beautiful day, and he had nothing else to do but to sit still and look pretty. His parents would scold him for hours straight if he ruined his clothes by sparring. He rather didn’t want to endure it while the Starks were a present audience.

He wouldn’t be able to stand Robb’s smug smirk afterwards which would send Jon lunging towards him. And it would be outrageous and unacceptable since they weren’t children anymore, he couldn’t just plant his fist in Robb’s jaw anymore.

He was overthinking it all, but he didn’t want to dare his chances.

Jon felt cold hands slipping in front of his eyes as he felt warmth radiating from a body behind him. His nostrils flared, trying to distinguish who it could be or what they were. But they smelled foreign which made his nose wrinkle.

“Guess who.” He heard a soft voice murmur as their breath tickled his ear which him bent his neck to bury his ear in his uplifted shoulder. But the widest smile settled itself on his features as he realised whose voice that was.

He pushed those hands away while clutching them in his hands before turning his body to stare into the violet eyes of his aunt.

“Aunt Dany!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter really tried to test me, it really did


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me for being late and it being quite short, I am sorry

Jon had his arms securely tucked around Daenerys’ neck who hummed approvingly while cradling her nephew’s head in her palm, “oh sweetling, forgive me for my delay.” She muttered as she squeezed him a little tighter against her.

He didn’t want to leave her embrace, she smelled like tree bark, ointments and something sweet, he couldn’t put his finger precisely on what. He heard the little pup whimper at the lack of attention he received as it made the two pull away to see him rolling on the bench, showing his pink belly for a rub.

“And who is this?” She asked with wonder gleaming in her eyes as she complied to the pup’s wishes with a stroke of her fingertips over his tummy which made him stretch his tiny paws and let out a gleeful squeak.

“The Starks gave him as a present. Which makes me realise that you should probably make your presence known, or otherwise father won’t be happy.” Jon answered as he lowered his gaze when he felt his aunt’s eyes burning on his skin.

“Your father doesn’t have a say about me. Besides, my nephew is more important than a bunch of wolfs twirling on Dornish soil.” He could feel his muscles around his mouth straining to bite back a smile at his aunt’s boldness, “who, mind you, has grown into such a beautiful young man who shouldn’t be hidden behind castle walls.”

She grinned with adoration sparkling in her wide eyes, “then take me with you on one of your journeys?” Jon asked which made her sigh. Her fingers tangled themselves in his curls, playing with the locks absentmindedly.

“Your parents would never allow it; you have to remain here to marry a high lord and bear his offspring.” Jon could feel his heart jolt in his chest at that thought – it wasn’t a pleasant thought. Many omegas had confessed that first times were painful, not only that but also that he didn’t want to be bonded to someone, to devote himself and his body completely to someone else just because of his nature.

“To live a life in captivity.” He breathed out as he squinted his eyes when he stared into the distance to see small figures roaming around the premises while he heard distant laughter with the jolly chittering of birds cutting through it.

“Jon that is not what I meant.” He felt cold fingertips stroking his jaw which made him close his eyes.

“Why am I not allowed a life like you or uncle, one where I can do as I please?” Jon asked with a sort of pained tone to his voice as his eyes shot open to see her staring at him with lavender eyes boring into his grey ones.

“You will be able to do so; you just need an alpha to secure your safety.”

“I am safe. I have you and uncle, you always have protected me, ever since I was a babe.”

“We won’t be always near.” Jon could hear the slight tremble in her voice at the mention of that as he frowned, lines deeply creasing into his forehead while there was a slight twitch in the corner of his lips.

“You think Stannis Baratheon will give me protection? What if I don’t want him?” He blurted out as he felt his aunt’s hands cup his jaws in a reassuring matter.

She released her lips from between her teeth before opening her mouth, “you won’t marry him if you don’t want that union to happen. You can reject him, and he will be out of your life without further discussion. But do give it a chance to get to know each other better before coming to a conclusion.”

“And what if I reject all of them?”

“Jon, you are arguing just to argue.” She muttered with her brows furrowing before releasing her nephew abruptly as she stared the other way without sparing him another glance.

She wiped with her hands at her face before inhaling deeply, “I should make myself decent before presenting myself before the Starks.” She turned around to reveal her eyes that were slightly glossed with tears.

“Aunt Dany, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She closed her eyes before shaking her head with a small smile curling onto her face as she willed the tears away before opening her eyelids once more to see guilt written all over his face.

“No, sweetling, it’s not your fault. It’s just been a tiresome journey. I shall dress myself proper to greet our guests before retreating to my chambers for some rest. We will talk about my journey later.” She pressed a haste kiss onto his forehead as his mouth opened to speak words of protest, but nothing came out except for a small huff.

She gave the dire wolf one last rub over his head before he heard the tapping of her boots resounding on the pavement which was soon swallowed by the rustling of leaves above him.

He scooped the little animal in his hands who whined loudly from being removed from the cold stone off the bench before being exposed to the searing flares of the sun that was still so prominent in a clear blue sky. He felt the pup nibbling at one of his fingers before licking eagerly on it.

He ambled towards the gardens to be met with the sight of Robb and Viserys tying themselves into a conversation with one another, the Stark kept his hardened expression on his face as his lips moved rather stiffly, tightening over his teeth that it seemed as if he was mumbling something underneath his breath.

Viserys on the other hand was all smiles whenever he opened his mouth to speak which made his eyes shimmer and his teeth looked even whiter in the bright light. Another smile that was meant for a man that didn’t even deserve his uncle’s hospitality and kindness; Jon narrowed his eyes before trotting towards his uncle.

“Uncle?” He asked uncertain, his voice sounded fragile which made the man turn his head in an instant to stare at his nephew while Robb wasn’t done with speaking.

“If you will excuse me.” Viserys told Robb who gave him a curt nod in return before he walked towards Jon and led him nearby a fountain, shielding their conversation from any interested ears.

“Jon, what is it?”

“Aunt Dany has returned.” Viserys nodded his head with a musing expression on his face that made Jon frown once more.

“I shall speak with her once she joins us for dinner.” He felt a slight tug on his sleeve as he stared into mystified eyes before he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Are you keeping something from me, uncle?” Jon questioned with an involuntary jut of his bottom lip before he placed the pup down, so he waddled to a patch of turf to roll onto his spine with a purr. He felt Viserys’ thumb swiping over his chin before his eyes met such soothing lavender ones that only held such an amount of love that was only preserved for him.

“What makes you say that?” Not a twitch in his face was detected, not even a slump in posture.

His hands slid upwards to cup Jon’s cheeks who felt a soft smile creeping upon his face, “nothing, just asking.” Jon quickly said as he winced at his quick response. A soft caress of a calloused thumb on his cheek made him clutch the fabric on the sides of his uncle’s tunic.

“If you are certain, my dearest.” Jon could feel the tense knot in his lower spine loosen with each waft of his uncle’s calm scent invading his nostrils and his delicate touch on his cheeks. He pressed them more into the palms of his hands.

He heard a low chuckle rumbling in the throat from the other, “I wish I could hold you a little longer, but the Starks aren’t used to such display of affection publicly. I don’t want gossip to spread from ill-tempered spirits.” Jon let out a sound of displeasure when his uncle slid his hands from his cheeks to his shoulders which he gave a tender squeeze.

“You never cared about anyone’s view before.” Viserys grinned before releasing Jon from his grip.

“That’s true, but I care about my nephew’s reputation. You are so pure; I won’t blemish that by allowing fallacious rumours to spread.” Jon let out the tiniest whine which itched his hands from holding him once more, “maybe try to make some conversation with that Robb boy, he looks sturdy, but he can be quite pleasant.”

“Can be?” Jon snorted loudly before retracting his hands reluctantly from his uncle’s side to stare at the fountain that trickled water into the gathering beneath it. He saw his reflection being disturbed by the ripples of the stream that flowed into it.

“My lord.” He heard a scruff voice say which made him stiffen once more, his ears perked as he mindlessly stared at grey cement that was curling out of the stones from the fountain with his lips tightening into a thin line.

He heard feet shuffling on gravel as he turned to see his uncle giving him a knowing glance before trotting off with a bowing form. Jon breathed in as his gaze met the one from Robb. The alpha expected Jon to turn his face with flushed cheeks in embarrassment, but Jon just stared at him with disdain.

“Cousin, you look well.” Jon said insincere as he forced a small smile on his lips but was met with a cemented expression, “I haven’t properly thanked you for my gift. I absolutely adore the little pup already.”

“I am pleased to hear that you like it.” Robb spoke without much pull of his muscles in his face. He seemed rather bored with Jon’s presence, but the feeling was entirely mutual.

“Your betrothed must arrive any day now, accompanied with the Baratheons, you must be elated to see each other.” He saw a twitch at the corner of Robb’s eyes before a bitter expression appeared with a deep inhale that followed, puffing his chest even more.

“Yes, she’s very lovely.” He answered as he saw dejection appear on Jon’s face with how bland his answers were, “and Stannis he-“

“don’t bother, Robb, we don’t have to get along in any situation, just tolerate one another when our families gather.” Jon spoke as he stared into his crystal blue eyes, “you don’t have to act as if you are interested in my life, and frankly, I am not anywhere near interested in yours. Just smile followed with an insincere polite word.” He advised before clasping his hands over the balled one from the other.

Robb’s eyes widened at the tender touch on his fist that was being peeled open into an open palm, tracing lines with the pad of his finger sending a shiver down his spine, “I can feel their stares at this moment, they are filled with hope, hoping that we will finally get along but,” Jon dug his nails into his palm with the clench of his jaw as Robb hissed out a curse word.

“I didn’t forget your treatment towards me all these years, and make no mistake, you are on Dornish territory so one wrong word and you will return to your freezing pit you call home with a missing finger or two. I hope Margaery don’t mind a finger less up her cunt.” Jon threatened underneath his breath which startled Robb, wondering where he developed to spit out such venomous and filthy words.

Jon nicely folded his fingers into a fist once more before he patted it. He could feel his knees give a tremble with the strong scent of the other which made him even more irritated. He took a few steps away from the other with a sweet smile on his face to satisfy his family.

“Jon-“

“It was nice to see you again, cousin.” He said loudly. He heard a guttural growl coming from the other as a glare was evident on his face. Jon twirled around as his curls bounced wildly about before he scooped the pup off the ground as he desperately tried to ease his raging mind that held so many emotions crammed in there.

Robb didn’t only summon hatred or annoyance anymore, but other feelings as well that were considered positive in most cases, which made Jon bristle and slightly frightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you think robb will leave it at that, well he isnt going to leave it bc he is pissed, i am telling you. sigh,i am bursting with insecurities about my writing lately, it was there before but now it is worse but ah well. I hope I don't screw this fic over in the process. I might reread this in the morning and add changes if I am not happy enough with it. I have been having ideas for dark robb fics which I am giddy about but I will note them down for later. also old town road has been haunting me for so long, whenever I see a horse it starts playing instantly in my head, it is quite the burden when I try to concentrate on writing. n e ways leave comments and kudos if you liked, thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

Jon swept through the yard before running through the corridors, ascending the stairs with soft taps of his foot falls bouncing off the walls, allowing his scent to linger in its wake.

He leaped into the abandoned library before letting the pup down and leaning against the wooden door once it fell shut with his chest heaving while pants left his lips. The air felt heavy and clammy on his skin, but he preferred this rather than staying around Robb and being forced to talk to him.

He blinked a few times as his heart gradually slowed down, and his erratic pants reduced to slow breathing before he pushed himself away from the door with a curt glance towards it. He didn’t know whether someone ran after him or if they even noticed that he had swooped past them hurriedly.

The pup whimpered before rolling himself onto his back, the back of his head nuzzling against the carpet as his tongue was dangling out of his mouth. He let out a short bark when he noticed that Jon was watching him which made the youngest Targaryen chuckle.

He adverted his gaze eventually on an open window as there was distant commotion going on that his ears picked up.

He took lazy strides towards it; the pads of his fingers slid over bindings of books that were close to falling apart as he saw some only hanging together by a thread.

A gush of warm wind stroked his face once he was near enough the window as he sat himself onto the sill to stare into the gardens; they outstretched far, Jon always wondered how much maintenance it must keep, it was always well kept. But Jon never went too far into the gardens since he wasn’t allowed to go too far from the castle without supervision.

He let out a loud breath before allowing his eyes to roam over the large premises of green, his knee coming up to rest against his chest while he pensively twirled the laces of his boot around his fingers.

He thought of what his aunt said about having to bear the offspring of some lord he barely knew. He couldn’t imagine his belly swelling with a child, it made him shudder visibly at the thought of it. Not to mention to be intimate with a stranger which would lead to an uncomfortable affaire if not painful, which Jon assumed it would be at first.

He wondered if Stannis would be gentle if he agreed on this marriage, if he would be kind and listen to Jon’s words of hesitance whenever he had to be indulged to all the new ways of life that strung together with marriage. He didn’t know, and that was what always frightened him.

Perhaps that’s why he felt even more resentful towards Robb than he could remember; he tried to be something that he was not. Jon remembered him as cruel and cold; someone that did everything to tear him to the ground. He wouldn’t have a change of heart, not him. Yet there was something else, dwelling in the pit of his stomach, Jon didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t predict anything good.

All of it made him anxiously bite down on his bottom lip ‘til the flesh was raw and tender, the laces of his boot was so tightly wrapped around his digits that the tips of his fingers were a slight tint of blue.

Jon remained seated on the window sill, silently brooding as his face became hard as the creases that ran across his forehead deepened the longer he remained in his string of thoughts. He eventually paced around the library, his face pointed towards the ground, following patterns of the carpet.

He was interrupted by a servant that had been looking for him, announcing that he was expected for dinner. He didn’t believe that he had been tied in his own thoughts for so long until he glanced at the window noticing that the sun had already started setting.

He followed her towards the hall while another servant scooped the tripling pup in his hands to bring him to the kennels until Jon decided otherwise.

He inhaled deeply before painting a forced smile on his lips while entering the large hall that revealed his family waiting for him, “forgive me.” Jon said while he walked towards his mother who shook her head.

“Where have you been my son?” She asked with a tender smile on her lips while placing her hands on his shoulders, her thumbs slightly pressing into his skin in a firm grasp.

“The library.” He answered which made her frown, but she bit her tongue for the sake of it. Her hands falling back to her side with a comforting slide down his arms.

“Very well.” She answered. Jon’s eyes darted from her eyes to his father’s who remained stoic, but he knew that he would be put up for a task that he would not like. Because he knew his father’s principles when guests were over; retreating to a library wasn’t one of them.

Jon’s eyes searched for the ones of his uncle once he was allowed to find his seat. They met each other as Viserys silently reprimanded his nephew for his mistake which will allow his father to have a reason to saddle him up with something unpleasant for him, and it will end in a discussion between both brothers.

Viserys found it trivial but his brother was adamant on his son behaving impeccable, he already grew exasperate with his siblings, so Jon wasn’t allowed to make mistakes anymore.

Jon seated himself in his chair with his aunt and uncle seated next of him as servants trickled into the hall to serve their dinner. Jon could feel the corner of his mouth twitch when his father complimented Robb fondly who took it gracefully, noticing Jon’s intense gaze on him.

It made the Stark grasp onto his attention a bit longer, clearly relishing in Jon’s penetrating glare that was caused not only by Robb but also by his father who seemed unaware about his son becoming distressed by his display of affection towards the other, a distant nephew he had hardly seen over the years.

His hands tightened on his cutlery until his knuckles turned white, but it was gone as soon as it came as he composed himself once more. He adverted his gaze towards his plate as he remained silent for the rest of dinner, listening to the occasional chat between his other family members.

He listened to Catelyn’s boasting about her daughter’s angelic voice as Jon noticed Arya stabbing furiously into her meat whenever a praise fell from their lips to one of her siblings, but hardly any to her. Jon could understand her reaction, but it also earned her a disapproving comment on the fact that she shouldn’t cut at her meat so violently.

He glanced towards his aunt who chewed on small bits of her dinner before she showed Jon a small smile that didn’t even reach far enough to be considered a smile; it was just a crook of her lips. Jon felt slightly frustrated with the lot of them, with his uncle for agreeing with his parents and making him talk to Robb, with his aunt for being so distant, with his father for being unreasonable at times, with his mother for always being silent, with the Starks for bringing an abomination such as Robb into his home.

He wanted to retreat to his chambers, to sulk in his solitary bed where he could gape at the ceiling ‘til he felt tired enough to fall asleep, to eventually forget about most of it the next day and move on. But he knew his parents wouldn’t allow it, at least not until after dessert was served.

It felt like ages when finally, dessert came; pastries, lemon cakes, all sorts of fruit, blueberry tarts, custard, the plates kept coming with so much variety that Jon could hardly keep up. The cook had outdone himself, he thought when his eyes slid over all the sweet treats. He helped himself to a few pieces of fruit, he could still slip into the kitchens later if he felt like something sugary.

He sunk his teeth into a strawberry; it was juicy and rich with flavour. He licked his lips when it dribbled down his bottom lip. After a few pieces of fruit, Jon’s lips were a deep red. They were plump and moist as he seemed to enjoy his fruit a little too much, being unaware of Robb’s tentative glances.

“Jon.” His father called out from the far end of the table which made the other look up with a swallow as his eyes met the calm lavender ones from Rhaegar.

“Father.” He answered politely before inclining his head. The table fell gradually silent while Rhaegar tapped his fingers against the wooden surface before adverting his gaze to Viserys whose eyes hardened threateningly. But he just stared at him stoically before staring back at his son who fidgeted with his knife; the polished silver glimmering in the light.

“In the morrow we will take the carriages and visit the vineyards, now I don’t have to explain to you that we will be gone for a few days. Robb and Arya aren’t joining us sadly, the task is upon you to keep them company in our absence.” His eyes held authority that Jon could not undermine by refusing blatantly in front of the Starks. His father wouldn’t even tolerate it in front of his mother.

Jon pried his eyes away from his face to stare at his uncle in a silent plead who kept his steely gaze locked on his brother with his jaw tightening in ire. He wanted to glance at his aunt as well, but it would agitate his father for not answering.

“Of course, father. It would be my honour.” Jon tried his best to not spit out the last words that were hard to roll over his tongue. He could feel Robb’s eyes burning on his face as it took everything in him to not glance at him which would break all the dams. It wouldn’t be a sight to see the Targaryen heir yank the Stark heir across the table. It would be a tragedy to have them both covered in lemon cakes and custard clinging into their hair squabbling like two small children before being reproached by both their parents, but it would be Jon’s fault since he was the one to swing his fist first.

And Robb wasn’t worth to lose any privileges over.

The time seemed to crawl passed as Jon waited patiently for his father to excuse everyone, only to dash out of the hall. He saw his aunt and uncle rise from their seat, wanting to have a word with him, but he didn’t allow it. He grumbled while biting down hard on his bottom lip as he ran towards the kennels to retrieve his pup.

* * *

 

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Viserys bellowed as he slammed the door shut of Rhaegar’s solar who sunk into his chair while pressing the pads of his fingers against his temples.

He frowned, “about what precisely?”

“You want to leave Jon with that Stark boy here without any supervision?”

“They should get along for once, and there will be plenty of guards.” Viserys planted his hands on the wooden desk as he loomed over his brother threateningly. His eyes were burning with anger as his palms dug deeper into the wood.

“What does it matter? Jon is going to marry someone else; they are both going to marry someone else!” Viserys yelled as he saw his brother’s eyes harden with each word that fell from his lips.

“You are missing the point, my dear brother. They do have to get along eventually since they will be the ones representing our houses someday, they have to maintain the allegiance between house Stark and Targaryen. One way or another, Jon and Robb will have to be able to stand each other’s presence. It should start somewhere.” Viserys shook his head in disbelief as he took a few steps away from the wooden desk.

“I won’t allow him being with your omega son alone. Robb may be a good and honourable kid, but I still don’t trust it. I will remain in this castle to look over Jon.” He announced which made Rhaegar stare at him from underneath his lashes.

“You constantly undermine me, you and Daenerys.”

“What are you implying, brother?” Viserys asked, confusion lacing his voice. Rhaegar’s gaze fell onto the window that was slightly ajar as he saw the glowing red sun avidly being swallowed by the landscape.

“What I am implying is that I don’t want it to be rubbing off on Jon.” Viserys snorted which made him snap his head towards him, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Trust me, he would never dare to go against your wishes nor bring shame upon this house, not even with our support. But please, let me stay here to watch over him. This might seem like a brilliant idea in your eyes but having an alpha alone with an omega could become dangerous.” He said boldly, he seemed so certain that it made Rhaegar simmer down, putting his trust in his brother’s words.

He exhaled while thrumming his fingers against his knuckles, considering the offer, it wasn’t an offer but still, he considered it. Thoughts flooded his mind with images of what could possibly happen to Jon; each image worse than the first. He knew that he was probably overthinking it, but he didn’t want to risk anything, definitely not when it came to his son.

He had to shake his head to rid his mind of heinous thoughts, it almost made him reconsider the trip to the vineyards to keep a close eye on Jon. He stared at Viserys who quirked his eyebrow in anticipation, “very well, you can stay. It would put Lyanna at ease as well.”

His eyes gleamed before he slightly bowed his head in respect as he turned to reach for the doorknob but was stopped by Rhaegar’s voice calling out once more, “oh and Viserys,” he turned around to see his brother’s stern eyes staring back.

“If anyone touches Jon in any inappropriate way, you best tell me, I will cut off each of their fingers.”

“They wouldn’t dare, brother.”

* * *

 

Jon found himself being sprawled on top of his bed while wiggling his fingers for the pup to chase and nibble on with a whimper leaving his throat, “you need a name.” Jon mumbled absentmindedly as the little wolf licked over the pads of his fingers with satisfied purrs.

The slight breeze made his curtains sway as he felt it stroke against his face like a soft caress. He hummed in consideration, “maybe frost?” Jon gagged internally at his poor attempt of a name when he said it out loud.

“Snow?” He questioned once more before scrunching his nose, “no, that’s just not right.” He answered himself as he tapped his other fingers against his closed lips. He rolled off his large bed before shuffling towards the open window to step onto the balcony as the wind felt like soft caresses against his cheeks.

The temperature was decreasing, yet the warmth kept lingering inside of the castle. He had gotten rid of his tunic as he remained in his thin shirt, he leaned against the parapet as his eyes glided over the landscape that was falling into darkness like a black veil being gradually draped over it. His chest expanded before his entire body slumped with a simple exhale.

He had calmed down after being isolated in his room with only his pup and the ghosts of this castle as company. He raised his head in glee when he had found the perfect name for his pup that tilted his head while having his small tongue poking out, “ghost.” He muttered underneath his breath.

He sauntered back into the room towards the bed to plop down onto it as the pup instantly curled into his side, “ghost is your name now, better get used to it.” Jon announced, but the pup was already dosing off. He remained staring at the ceiling, his hands folded over his belly, with a small smile on his lips for a little while longer before getting ready for bed, drifting off instantly once he was huddled up in bed.

* * *

 

Dust flew around, gathering in a cloud, as feet scrambled wildly about, trying to steady themselves into the ground. Jon looked up to see his uncle smirking down at him as his hands were pressed into gravel, feeling it dig into his soft skin. His spine was glistening with sweat as the sun was only starting to peak above the trees.

They had been sparring for hours, they had started at dawn with thick fog blinding their far sight and droplets sliding down petals. Within an hour they both lost their shirts which made Jon parry the blows even more since they were delivered harsher.

Jon was panting as he scurried to grab the wooden sword that he had dropped when his uncle had put all his might into the shove he received. He leaped back on his feet, “you never surrender, do you?” Viserys chuckled as he readied himself.

His grip tightened around the hilt of the sword, his feet were quick and coordinated as he advanced on his uncle who easily raised his sword to hear the thud of wood against wood. He grinned at his nephew before his sword met the side of his ribcage which made a stabbing pain ripple through his body, wincing at the contact.

He staggered backwards, stumbling slightly while clutching the side of his torso that became an angry red. Viserys was certain that it would bloom into a fairly large bruise, “I don’t want to beat you black, besides breakfast will be served soon enough and we need to be freshened up.”

“One last time, uncle.” Jon protested while leaning onto his sword like a cane for a few seconds to keep himself from collapsing with pain. Viserys eyed him before tilting his head with a cocky grin on his face once more. Jon straightened himself instantly as he raised his sword to challenge the other.

“Fine, one last time.” He agreed as they start to circle around each other with Jon limping slightly. He waited patiently for his uncle to pounce, but Viserys knew better. He observed Jon’s posture that had a slight slump despite his efforts. He was getting exhausted, thus an easier target.

He dared to launch forward, but only wound up right where Jon wanted him. He was surprised when Jon dodged the blow easily. He could feel a swell of pride inside of him when he heard the startled sound his uncle made.

His uncle didn’t hesitate with dishing out another blow and he parried it by crossing swords, only to have his uncle pressing down with all his might. It made his knees buckle, almost falling through them.

He grunted once as he tried to push his uncle off him, but he was stronger and taller, all of which was used to his advantage. Jon clenched his jaw in frustration before he gave a curt push and his foot met the centre of Viserys’ chest without hesitation, knocking him to the ground with a huff.

“Gods!” He heard someone gasp as he turned around while panting, his chest expanding ferociously. His hands pushing away the curls that clung to his blotched face. The air felt suffocating as his lungs felt on fire from the exertion.

“Arya! What are you doing here? You should be getting ready for breakfast or your parents won’t be pleased.” She shrugged her shoulders rather unbothered by what her parents would think. But she held a fascinated look on her face when she stared at her cousin.

“You really need to teach me while our parents are away.” She demanded while Jon shook his head, Viserys already getting up from the ground with a groan as a visible footprint was in the middle of his chest.

“Ladies shouldn’t fight, it is out of place.” She crossed her arms rather annoyed.

“Omegas shouldn’t fight either; they also have to please their lord or prince or whoever stupid alpha they need to marry.” Arya defended herself, but it only upsetted Jon in the process. His face fell instantly as he handed his wooden sword to his uncle who then gave him a cloth to wipe some sweat off in return. Jon said a small word of gratitude before focusing his attention on Arya.

“Well if omegas shouldn’t fight then I shouldn’t teach you either.” He reasoned, but that seemed to spark something in her.

“No, no, you have to teach me,” she pointed her finger at Jon to emphasize it, “you are better than Robb, better than Theon. Please Jon.” She begged as he wiped a strand of hair from in front of her eyes away. He was flattered with the compliment she blurted out, but he wouldn’t give in so easily.

“You are too young, and these bruises and cuts they hurt, Arya.” She pouted visibly which made him chuckle before wiping at the back of his neck with the cloth.

“Maybe when you are older, and you can decide it for yourself. Now get ready for breakfast.” Jon muttered which made her eyes gleam once more as she turned around and darted out of the yard. He breathed out as he winced when he even dared to stretch, a small whimper escaping his lips.

He felt a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder as he looked up to see his uncle smiling sympathetically at him, “we should get ready as well, or your father will murder me for keeping you back.” Jon nodded his head.

He tossed the cloth at his uncle before speeding into the castle down corridors and ascending stairs to arrive in his chambers to see a bath being drawn already.

When he had been bathed and was thoroughly clean, he was once more dressed to sit still and look pretty; jewellery adorning his fingers and ears as his hair was tied back, some curls sprang easily free.

He took one last glance in a small mirror that hung in his chambers before deciding to leave for breakfast, only to stumble into Robb in the corridor who couldn’t spare him a smile.

“Excuse me, I have to attend breakfast.” Jon announced, but he was met with a wall against his spine and a knee pressing between his thighs to keep him pinned against it. He yelped as his eyes widened when he noticed how close Robb was.

“You really think I would let you speak to me in that manner without reprieve? Haven’t you learned anything from all the time we have spent together, little Jon?” Jon’s wide, surprised eyes turned into a glare not even after the sentence was finished as he trashed against Robb’s grip.

“Let go of me, or my father will hear about this.”

“Listen to me,” Robb snarled as his finger's curled around Jon’s wrists, “we both don’t want to be here, but why not make the best of it since we are not going to get from underneath this.” Jon stared at him, blinking a couple of times without uttering a word.

Robb noticed that Jon wasn’t going to speak, he just did it to irk him, “you are being a hot headed prick.” He snarled in his face which made the other glare even more.

“You are the one to talk.” Jon spat which seemed to amuse Robb as he cocked his eyebrow in interest, but it returned back to his stern expression before he opened his mouth to speak.

“You threatened me for no reason. What did you even expect I would do? Just be a good little boy and cower in fear? You are mistaken.”

Jon remained silent as he adverted his gaze to a point somewhere to his side, “but I promised my father to show my best behaviour, so it would be best if we just bit on our tongues and got along for the time being.” Robb said, but it was followed by another wave of silence washing over him.

“I am being nice, Jon, don’t wear it out.” Jon turned his face to stare into his blue eyes before breathing out in annoyance.

“Are you done with your pathetic attempt of threatening and lecturing me? I am quite hungry.” Robb growled at the other’s ignorance before squeezing his wrists harder, making Jon bite down on his lip, being almost certain that he would break one of them if he kept such pressure on them.

“Let me be clear here, threaten me again, and you will deeply regret it.”

“If you even dare to touch me, you will be flogged through the streets of Dorne.” Jon warned with a slight stutter, but he bit down on his lip hard when he felt the other’s knee sliding upwards. He turned his face while squeezing his eyes shut, heat spreading over his cheeks. He could hear his heart pounding in his head as he felt hot breath fanning against his jaw.

“But I am touching you right now, am I not? Besides, who said anything about touching you?” Jon wanted to claw at him, spit at him, kick him, scream at him, just anything, but he remained paralysed in the alpha’s grip. A small whimper left Jon’s throat and he wanted to plunge his head into the ground with how pathetic he sounded.

“Let go of me, Stark. Right now.” Jon growled with slight waver. This time the other complied but held onto Jon’s wrists just a little longer. He knew that Jon wouldn’t hold back to strike him for touching him, “I said let go of me.” Jon spat with a tug of his wrists as he stared into the eyes of the other which made him suck in a breath and still.

“Don’t let this happen another time, and there won’t be any difficulty. If you do, then not even your father will be able to prevent of what will happen next.” Jon couldn’t help but swallow before Robb yanked himself away from his body to storm off towards the hall.

Jon blinked a couple of times while rubbing his wrists, “seven hells.” He muttered underneath his breath as he gazed how Robb became smaller with each stride he took farther away from him.

His mind already set on telling his aunt and uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh jon is going to snitch! i am still ridiculously insecure, so pardon me. I hope you guys enjoyed this, whatever it is. i will edit later for any mistakes or whatever i dont like. leave kudos and comments if you liked it and I will forever love you!
> 
> edit: i edited this chapter a little bit


	6. Chapter 6

“Put your wrists out for me.” The soothing voice of his aunt rang in his ears. It broke through his pensive daze like a rock bursting through a solid wall. The drowned murmur returned to vicious snapping from his uncle. He was growing redder in the face with each rub of ointment of his aunt he caught sight of.

Jon’s eyes felt dry as he blinked. “Viserys, it’s no use to stand here spitting out your frustrations.” Daenerys hissed, fingers tracing along the red swell as he felt the soft puffs of breath along his moist skin.

“I will not allow him to patronise our nephew, Dany.” Viserys spat, making Jon suck in a sharp breath, “threatening him, touching him, even speaking words of malice wants me to rip his head from his shoulders.”

“Uncle, please remain calm.” Jon spoke, his teeth grazing his bottom lip when he saw something flicker in Daenerys’ eyes, an uncertainty that she couldn’t keep herself from hiding.

He heard the slight wheeze of Viserys’ intake of breath, “that boy needs to know where his place stands as an alpha, he is not to touch you.”

Jon wanted to tell Viserys the whole truth, but it remained stuck in his throat. A dense pressure was evident whenever he dared to swallow. He wouldn’t save Robb’s hide otherwise, but he knew that he had caused a stir in his reaction; it was his own fault.

“Aunt Dany, I am used to worse. There is no need for ointments.” Jon tried to convince her. His wrists were smeared with a thick white salve which reeked of sour milk, it made his nose wrinkle.

But she didn’t release him, “if your father sees.” She warned, pressing the pad of her finger a little firmer into his skin. “It makes the bruising less severe.” She explained.

“We should let him see; this is what that Stark boy causes.”

“It was my fault.” He finally allowed the confession to fall from his lips, his throat constricted when he noticed the intense gaze from Viserys. Violet eyes were piercing through him as if he pulled his skin inside out, all for him to see, so he could know the entire truth. It left Jon visibly shivering; his glare was unyielding.

“I might have provoked him first.” Daenerys squeezed his wrist slightly.

“Jon, I told you to allow him a chance.”

“You did, and I didn’t give him one. I realise my mistake.” Jon spoke, lowering his gaze while his muscles grew taut with the words he swallowed down once more. A warm palm cupped his jaw to make him stare into pale violet eyes.

“You will apologise for what you did to him.” Jon’s mouth parched as if someone poured a bucket of Dornish sand into his throat, his lips parted slightly, “after I taught the Stark boy some manners of how to handle such situations as an alpha.”

Viserys’ eyes bore into Jon’s one last time before his fingers squeezed to emphasize his point, he wouldn’t stand down from giving Robb what he deserved, and Jon knew that.

But before he could let out any word of protest, he was released and his uncle had pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Jon restless in Daenerys’ grip.

* * *

 

Robb was lying underneath the shade of a tree, staring at the leaves rustling above him whenever a breeze of air swept through. The sun peeked through gaps, light raining down onto the grass in the form of small beams.

He had prayed that the heat would be less adamant; it didn’t agree with him at all. Alas, the sun did its best to scorch down on him, making him wonder how Dornish people could withstand it. He always had loved the cold; crisp snow crunching underneath the soles of his boots and being able to heat his cold flesh in front of a blazing fire. No wonder that Southerners were constantly shivering and scowling when they set foot in the North, if they were used to these weather conditions.

Robb wanted to close his eyelids to allow his thoughts to soar through the clear sky with the birds back to Winterfell, “Robb Stark.” He heard a voice hiss as he craned his neck to stare at a silhouette that ambled into the shade of the tree, revealing silver white hair that glimmered in such bright light.

The Stark scrambled to his feet, knowing his courtesies, “my lord.” He muttered, but Viserys’ hardened expression did not smoothen. He had been kind to Robb the day before, so his hostility must have had something to do with a certain spoiled nephew.

“It had come to my attention that you have bothered my nephew.” Viserys told him which made the younger furrow his brows in confusion. 

_Bothered him? He only gave him what he deserved._

“Bother him? He was the one snarling and snapping at me while we tried to have a conversation, threatening to cut off a few of my fingers.” Robb said, he was agitated that he had been disturbed for Jon  _fucking_ Targaryen once more, as if he hadn’t heard that name being slung at his head for enough years.

“That doesn’t give you the bloody right to touch him.” Viserys snapped, his eyes seemed to burn with anger. He grabbed Robb by the collar, fingers curling tightly into the front of his tunic. “Have you not learned anything when you rutted into an alpha? Touching an omega that isn’t yours is punishable by death.”

Robb glared at him. “I barely touched him.” He spat, but Viserys growled menacingly. His face neared before Robb’s spine was met with the trunk of the tree, making his muscles throb in protest and his tunic scraping against his sweaty spine. Robb had to swallow down a rising groan.

“Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, you do not touch him, not under any circumstances, not even barely.” He snarled as Robb stared at him impassive, his fingers curled around his wrist that held such tight grip on him. He opened his mouth, only to snap it back shut when Viserys spoke once more, “I won’t tell my brother, nor your father about this little misfortune, but if it happens once more there will be consequences. And I will gladly participate in them. Do I make myself clear?”

Robb’s eyes pricked with the undeniable need to roll them, but he nodded his head reluctantly, “yes.” He muttered which made the grip disappear on him. He let out a breath in relief before rubbing at his chest, his eyes hardened with anger clear in them.

“Jon is way above you, even Margaery Tyrell is a gamble for someone like you. You may be your father’s heir, may become a fine leading lord, having a castle, practically owning the North. If you had some decency in you, you were deserving of her, but you lack everything good, boy. And you will only wind up with empty hands if you do not change your ways.” Viserys warned as he turned around to return to the castle, but a hoarse voice stopped him from doing so as his gut coiled in dread.

“You don’t know how your precious nephew is, he can be vil-“ Viserys cut him off, his blood coursing rapidly through his veins in rage at the mention of Jon.

“It might’ve escaped your notice, but you made Jon feel as if he had to strike back whenever he laid eyes on you. You brought this upon yourself, so don’t expect anything from him. He doesn’t owe it to you.” Robb’s jaw clenched as an ache settled in his skull. He knew it was wise to keep his mouth shut, and just allow Viserys to trot away from him so he could be alone with his thoughts once more.

“Do not dare to touch him again.” Was the last warning that fell from his lips before the sun leaked over his silver hair once more before his figure was draped in it and Robb had to squint to make out his silhouette while he stormed off.

Robb retreated to his chambers afterwards, or he might have Daenerys breathing fire in his neck as well if he remained in the outstretched meadow.

* * *

 

There were a few faint knocks on his door, and without him verbally telling the person to enter the room, the door opened to reveal a mop of curls and grey eyes underneath that held nothing but dismay. Robb exhaled exasperatedly but made no movement to send him away.

“What do you want? Hasn’t your uncle reprimanded me enough?” Robb snapped as he got rid of his tunic that had been irritating his skin, not even bothering to cover himself for Jon whose eyes remained glued to his face, but he had to refrain himself from allowing them to glide south. He breathed in before opening his mouth, the apology came as dry as the outstretched sands of Dorne with a flaring sun on it.

“I came to apologise for threatening and provoking you.” It was swift and distant, not really meant for it to be sincere, just meant for leverage when Robb dared to wriggle a toe out of line. It wouldn’t fall on Jon’s shoulders anymore.

“I don’t want your apology; I just want you to leave.” Robb snarled before wiping at his shoulder with his disposed tunic, strands of auburn hair clinging onto his forehead that was bathed in sweat. Gods, he wanted the weather to become more forgiving on him, or better yet he wanted to return to the North, where the frost could cool his skin.

“If you think that my uncle’s behaviour was my doing than you are mistaken.” Jon’s voice was unwavering, cutting through the room like steel. He didn’t cower when Robb slightly neared with his fingers tugging at his locks in frustration with how clammy it felt to touch.

His eyes held an icy fire in them that was meant to burn the other to the ground, wanting his resolve to crumble and collapse, because Robb did not want any of it, “that’s hard to believe, you always went to whine to your aunt and uncle ever since we were children. I assume you wouldn’t have changed now.”

“I don’t want to argue with you. Just accept my apology, and I shall take my leave.” Jon said through a clenched jaw, keeping himself from spatting out words in retaliation.

“I won’t, but you can still leave if you please.” Robb shrugged before tossing his tunic at the foot of his bed, “and if you can’t take that answer, then I don’t know what to tell you further.”

“What do you want to hear then?” Jon tried, working on his last bit of patience which took him a lot to will it down with each passing moment. His fist clenched beside him, as his shoulders were tense with indignation.

“Nothing from you, I just want you to leave. It is not that hard.” Robb muttered.

“Fine.” Jon bit out, not seeing any reason to keep attempting at conciliation, before yanking on the brass door knob, slamming the door shut behind his body as he breathed heavily through his nose, if he remained a little bit longer in that room, he would’ve had steam blowing out of his nostrils.

Robb inhaled deeply when the door slammed closed; a waft of sweetness overcame his senses like a huge wave collapsing on top of him. Jon radiated a scent of lilacs and ripe peaches, but there was a bitter tinge to it which made his nose slightly curl in distaste.

He had taken a liking of Jon’s scent which he would never admit even when the steel of a blade was biting at his throat, but he secretly took whiffs when he passed by. The scent soothed him, easing his nerves and making his muscles slack; at least something good about Jon Targaryen.

He took another gulp of the heady fragrance before it fled from him completely, there was a slight swell of jealousy when he thought of the Alpha that could fall asleep with their nose buried into Jon’s curls; being swayed in a tranquil slumber with each inhale of that sweet scent.

Robb shook his head before a loud snort resounded in the room at his risible thoughts. He ambled towards the small bowl that held water as he dipped a cloth into it to run over any sweat covered patch to relieve himself from the agonizing heat.

* * *

 

Jon trudged through the corridors, descending and ascending stairs to find his cousin that had been hiding herself for quite a while now. He even had inquired about it to a few servants who shook their heads immediately, “where is that girl?” He muttered underneath his breath while roaming the gardens where he found nobles making pleasant talk with each other while soaking up the sun.

He decided on seating himself on a bench to see if she might come around this way, he breathed out as he kept fiddling with his fingers. He felt somewhat frustrated with Robb, but most of all he felt annoyed with himself. He couldn’t keep himself from frowning or shifting restlessly in his seat.

Viserys was displeased with him, he hadn’t returned after giving Robb his lecture, and it left Jon sulking, Arya was nowhere in sight which was going to deliver him another lecture thrown at his head, and Robb had left Jon questioning what his own reasons really were behind his hostility. He sat there for a few hours contemplating before Arya had shown herself with a stick clutched in her palm.

“What are you doing with that?” Jon asked, not even reaching his hand out to confiscate it, but rather eyeing her with curiosity. Her face was flushed, spots of red ran across her chubby cheeks while sweat dripped down her temples, soaking the edges of her hair.

“I was just playing with it.” She quickly scrambled to say, small pants left her lips still.

Jon raised his eyebrow before crossing his arms in front of his chest, “interesting, and what were you playing exactly?”

“Swords.” She muttered, it was more like a breath being released as she hoped that Jon wouldn’t hear, but his grin told her otherwise.

“You really don’t give up, do you? With who were you playing anyway?” Jon asked, his tone was light and playful, he didn’t mean to make Arya shift as if she was in trouble.

He sucked in an inaudible breath before rising to his feet, “you are not in trouble, Arya.” Jon reassured as he gave her an encouraging nod which made her face split into a wide smile.

“But just don’t tell your parents or anyone that I allow you to.” Jon told her; they would have his hide if they knew that he allowed her to play that while she should act like a proper lady.

“Well Robb and Theon allow me to do it as well, I don’t think Theon cares that much, but at least he leaves me alone.” Arya blurted out while she took a closer look at her moss riddled ‘sword’ while snapping small twigs off of it, not paying much mind to Jon’s deepening frown.

He on the other hand found it odd that Robb would allow his little sister to play such things, he wouldn’t deny that he might bore a lot of love for his younger siblings, one that Jon had yet to witness perhaps. There might be more to Robb Stark than he thought.

He banned his thoughts from his mind before following a giddy Arya towards the courtyard, sweeping and swirling her branch clumsily before clutching it with both hands, “I really want to fight like you one day.” She remarked making him hum while staring at her amused.

“One day perhaps.” He told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my best, but I hope you enjoy anyway
> 
> the ships are still margaery x robb and stannis x jon, I removed them from the tags for personal reasons
> 
> kudos and comments would be very welcome


	7. Chapter 7

A day or two passed, Jon spent most of his time with Arya, his aunt and uncle occasionally joined them to aid the youngest Targaryen to keep his wild cousin from completely wrapping him around her finger, since he adored her and would allow anything to paint a smile on her face.

After Daenerys had shown the dragon eggs she had retrieved from a man in Pentos, Arya followed her around like a wolf prowling to leap onto its prey. Robb on the other hand had been locked in his room, sometimes, he would silently watch Jon roam around the yard; a bright smile on his lips as Arya chased him around.

It had tugged hard on something inside his chest, and regret had filled him when he thought about how angered he had been towards him while he only tried to apologise. He told himself that he would try to make amends.

Jon, on the other hand, relished in not having to care for a Stark. It gave him some time to swim in one of the lakes where barely any smallfolk dared to venture since it was near the gardens that were forbidden ground for people who weren’t servants or nobles.

He slid his bare toes across the still water, as it sent ripples across it, disturbing the blue sky that reflected in the water. It felt tepid against his skin from the blazing sun that had warmed it.

He slid off his cotton tunic before his breeches followed, revealing slender, tan legs; a bit plumped at the thighs. His body had gone through so many changes after he was presented as an omega. He remembered how much his bones had ached as if fire lashed through his veins and how his skin had itched like a thousand insects crawled over him; he was just a child at that time, so his cheeks had been soaked in tears at the pain that was inflicted on his underdeveloped body.

Daenerys had unleashed her ire on his parents, he could still hear her shrill voice rising ‘til they could hear it in the capital. He had heard everything she had said.

_He is just a boy; he shouldn’t be having his heat at this time. The earliest should be sixteen, and even still, most have them at eighteen. You kept filling his head with Robb Stark and this arranged marriage, that his body prepared itself too early. He is in pain, and you even refuse to give him milk of the poppy while it is your fault! This is utterly ridiculous!_

His mother’s voice had then cut in, gentle and soothing as she tried to ease Daenerys’ anger that seemed to seep through every stone as it nearly shook the building. His aunt hadn’t been persuaded as she demanded a potion to alleviate his pain before striding into the room with fire blazing in her eyes, her face ruddy and blotched as she tried to stifle it when she saw her nephew’s glossed over eyes.

Throughout that time, he had been drunk on milk of the poppy, but when he sobered, the pain had been unbearable; it made the marrow quaver in his bones.

A shudder sprang down his spine at the mere thought of it before his thin shirt met the ground, it left him completely naked. He sat himself down on the edge, his legs disappearing ‘til the knee into the water. His spine was muscled and refined as the sun draped it in a golden gleam, seeing every twitch of muscle. His black curls tumbled down his shoulders, it made him look nigh ethereal.

Jon ran his fingers down his thighs, tracing the pads across his skin, chasing droplets of water before he lowered himself completely into the lake. His nerves were overcome with a sudden tranquillity when he floated across the surface; his hands moving like eels beside him to keep himself from sinking.

The sun shone down onto his face from between leaves that rustled whenever a breath of wind gusted through them. Jon remained there with a clear mind from everything.

In the meantime, a certain young Stark was in search for him. Robb had been trotting from corridor to corridor; peeked his head in every room he was allowed to enter, but Jon seemed to have disappeared up in smoke. He refused to ask Jon’s aunt or uncle where he might be hiding, they would’ve skewered him with their stares before heaping questions onto him, and eventually not give him the answers he wanted.

His cloak pressed down onto his shoulders, and the pommel of his sword was nudged into his sides whenever he dared to move. He tried to sniff the air to try and find a trace of his scent, and finally picked it up when he reached the gardens. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply before making his way through it.

“Jon?” His voice was calm, as he didn’t particularly raise it; he didn’t want to draw any attention to him. The scent led him to a more dilapidated area, bushes were grown out of shape as plants were destroyed by the flaring sun without being able to. Roots of trees were protruding from the burst ground, but he pressed forward without a second thought.

He had to push some branches away in order to keep them from striking thin lines into his face. The scent became stronger as it was one of a content omega, it drifted in the air so thickly that Robb had to gulp down a few swallows before he reached the source.

His fingers steadily curled around a branch to give his eyes a glimpse of the scene unfolding in front of him; Jon was swimming in the lake, stark naked.

Gods, Robb wanted to advert his gaze, it wasn’t right to stare at him in this state, but his eyes remained fixated as his throat parched when he saw his shoulders glistening in the light. His heart sped a beat faster when he saw Jon worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, his curls seemed to have beads of pearls clinging between strands.

Jon, blissfully unaware, kept swimming around until a branch snapped when Robb became over confident. A curse followed as Jon’s head snapped to the side to stare over his shoulder, his gut started to cave into itself when he thought of how many times his family had warned him about strangers and their antics.

_Young, unmated omegas shouldn’t wander off alone. Any alpha that catches a whiff of your scent, will not hesitate to break a few laws to get to you, no matter how highborn you are._

He heard his father’s voice resound in his skull, stern yet concern was twined with his words.

The water rippled when his shoulders shook in a shiver; it seemed to have lost its warmth. Or perhaps it was Jon’s blood that had ran cold at the mere thought of a few outlaws leaping from the shadows.

“Who’s there?” He called out as a vigilant hand started to reach for his clothes, his eyes locked on the spot where he had heard the sound before he saw a tuft of Tully red hair appearing from the shadows; a built silhouette became visible as the light seemed brighter when the high cheekbones and crystal blue eyes were revealed.

“What are you doing here?” Jon’s tone sounded accusing as his eyes narrowed, but he was weary all the same. His pulse was thrumming in his ears so violently that he thought that it would set small animals scuttling for cover.

“I was just looking for you.” Robb’s voice was deep, not even a squeak could be heard. He seemed completely unabashed about being caught in such an inappropriate act.

“You were looking at me.” He snapped at him, his front pressing itself against turf that grew near the flanks. Robb crossed his arms in front of his chest, a smug grin curling itself onto his countenance.

“Don’t flatter yourself, you are not even anywhere near appealing to me.” Robb mocked in response, as he nearly grimaced at his snarky response. His eyes fell on Jon’s face, shoulders hunched ‘til almost up his ears as his cheeks were dusted in pink, but his tongue remained as sharp as a blade whenever needed.

“Then why are you here?” His voice was still mellow, despite his irritation, that it felt as if he was being moulded into someone better, gentler for Jon.  

“Perhaps it’s better that you dress yourself before I speak about it.” Robb stiffly proposed; his body turned around as he closed his eyes without bickering any further. He heard the splash of water before the scraping of Jon shuffling around to take a hold of his clothes.

His face fell when he realised that his clothes would be soaked if he dressed in them with his skin still moist, “they will be soaking wet if I put them on. When I am not disturbed, I lie in the sun ‘til I’m completely dry.” He grumbled.

Robb had to will away that image from his mind; one where Jon was spread out onto the floor, the sun lapping at his skin to rid him of every drop that still clung onto his skin. Anyone would be able to see him; anyone could pounce on him if they had ill intentions.

“Take my cloak then.” He quickly uttered as he heard shuffling footsteps towards him.

“Are you sure?” Jon asked.

“Aye, I am.” His hands moved up to his chest to unclasp when he felt a tug at it.

Jon didn’t hesitate to wrap it tightly around his frame as his nose filled with the musk of Robb, it was so strong that he near fell through his knees, “it’s fine to look now.”

Robb turned around to see his frame completely lost in the bundle of his cloak, his nose buried in the fur around the collar. The pink hue that ran over the bridge of his nose grew a shade darker as he was certain that he would stink of the alpha, a thought that made Robb skite near the edge of his lucidity.

He cleared his throat before inhaling deeply through his mouth, his mind clearing through the haze, “you really shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“As if that matters to you.” Jon snapped before he nestled himself deeper into the cloak, a spark ignited at the base of his spine as he mistook it for a shudder.

Robb’s gaze fell to the floor before he tilted his head to meet Jon’s grey eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line, “an omega alone is not safe, you should know better.” He reprimanded as Jon scowled at his misplaced concern.

“Don’t speak to me about my safety as if you wouldn’t be the one that rather sees my neck break than helping me.” Jon growled; his cheeks felt tight with indignation as he itched to sprint out of there and into the safety of his room.

“I actually came here to apologise, I shouldn’t have touched you nor threatened you in petty retaliation, it was childish and wrong of me. I also apologise for reacting so harsh to you when you came into my room a few days ago, I was angered with your uncle, I shouldn’t have reacted it off on you.” Robb kept his gaze on Jon’s face, not wanting to break their gaze despite the strong need of casting them down when eyes bore so deep into him that it almost felt as if he was reading his entire soul at leisure.

“You never apologised to me before. Why now?” His brows furrowed as his hands clasped tighter around the cloak, his gaze still on him with a consuming intensity.

Robb released another breath, “I have to start taking responsibility for what I cause, I am not a little boy anymore.”

Jon swallowed down a snort that got stuck in his throat which made him release a fit of coughs, his hand patting against his cladded chest as his stare caught Robb’s, “I accept your apology, for the sake of it.” The omega reminded him.

“But you still stared at me while I was bathing.” Robb’s shoulders tensed as the air was squeezed out of his lungs. His mind tried to conceive an appropriate answer; he really didn’t mean to stare at him without his notice, but he still wasn’t able to keep himself from doing it.

“I was just looking for you, I didn’t stand there for long.” He spoke, a blatant lie as his chest bounded together in anticipation.

Jon’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t believe you.” His grey eyes only held suspicion and mistrust, and Robb couldn’t blame him.

“Do you really think that I would stare at you? You really don't strike my interest.” Robb started rambling as his nerves were running amok inside of his body, Jon’s scent was clustered onto him; permeating through every fibre of his being, taking hold of all his senses.

“I wouldn't want you and I'm sure others would agree with m-“ he cut himself off when it dawned upon him that his words had cut Jon as deep as they could, leaving open wounds behind that he had caused once more.

He worded it all wrong as he meant something different, and not even the puff of warm wind that stroked across his cheek could stop his body from turning ice cold when he saw Jon’s sullen face, eyes sunken and dulled as his lips quivered into a small pout.

“I didn’t mean-“

“It doesn’t matter, you have been revolted by me your whole life, I shouldn’t expect any different from you now.” Jon spat as his voice faltered at some parts, a large lump strained his throat as his entire being felt like collapsing. He yanked his scattered clothes from the floor, almost ripping them apart as he went. It didn’t matter to him, not when it felt as if the whole sky weighed down onto his shoulders.

Robb wanted to protest when Jon sped beside him into the trees, but his tongue doubled over, and his words remained stuck between his gums. His feet, however, twirled after Jon in an instant.

Jon was still quicker on his feet, and his smaller body gave him an advantage to not stumble into every branch that passed his path. Robb had to dig himself out of the forest of branches, as leaves and small twigs stuck between his curls. He gave his head a good shake to rid himself from them; his eyes caught the other running up the stairs into the building, just in time before he was lost on sight.

Jon threw off his cloak when he was in his chamber before grabbing his breeches and shirt to throw on him. Ghost came yipping behind him, but he didn’t pay him any mind as he buried his face into his cushions. He felt a wet snout sliding across his temple, puffs of air scattering in his ear as he breathed out.

He tried to even his breath as the strain across his chest slightly lifted, his eyes stung with tears that still gathered. But Jon refused to let them fall, not far a person like Robb, not again.

Robb did not come knocking on his door, it would’ve made matters worse if he persisted on talking to him. He admitted; he was a fool for saying such a thing. He didn’t mean it, he just tried to prove his point, but Jon wouldn’t understand that. He practically told him that he wasn’t desirable at all, and he wanted to smack himself across the head for it.

He ambled towards his room, his head stuck in thoughts while Arya had been lurking in the shadows, brewing on an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro, arya will lock them up in a broom closet
> 
> robb is just a dumbass, like I dont have anything else to say, flop of the north most likely
> 
> kudos and comments are very welcomed in these troubled times


	8. Chapter 8

“Seven hells, Jon!” Viserys shouted when Jon’s wooden sword had come down with the speed of light against his shoulder blade without giving him any chance to pivot, a hot white pain flared across his shoulders, his face paling when he thought of his shoulder being ruptured.

Jon’s teeth were gritted, the muscles in his jaw were tight and within his eyes blazed an inferno that was set to demolish. The sword shook violently as Jon’s hand seemed to tremble with unreleased anger.

His mouth opened suddenly as his eyes became gentle and filled with concern, the sword clattered against the ground before he leapt towards his uncle, “I’m so sorry, uncle, I didn’t mean to strike that hard.”

“You did mean it, but it wasn’t meant towards me.” Viserys spoke, a chuckle left his lips before he sucked in a breath at the searing pain whipping through his muscles. He hissed when Jon peeled his doublet open to have a look at it.

It revealed skin blooming with a large purple mark that indicated that Jon had struck harder than he dared to admit, “you should see a maester, you could’ve fractured something.” Viserys snorted before another hiss left his lips, the sun scorching down on them as beads of sweat started to trickle down his face which made Jon wipe it off with a towel.

“Don’t be too confident, sweet nephew.” He spoke as it made Jon’s lips curve before he tied his uncle’s silver hair back, it seemed to have a light of its own, “it probably isn’t so grave at all.” But another harsh throb made him bite down onto his lip.

Jon hummed, “still, it needs to be looked after.” He reasoned, nearly flinching himself when he saw how some dark veins appeared across the canvas of purple and blue, it looked like lightening cracking through thunder. He retrieved the wooden swords and towels before following his uncle into the building, almost stepping onto the heels of his feet with how near he trotted behind him.

“I can find the maester myself, Jon.” His uncle jested before patting Jon’s shoulder with a slight squeeze, he turned around and made his way down the corridor while whistling a tune.

Jon’s shoulders fell as he released a breath. He ran a hand down his face, it had been a tough morning since he barely slept because of yesterday’s incident which also led to hardly eating any breakfast. Not that Robb’s gaze burning into his scalp had helped any bit.

He heard rapid foot falls coming his way as his head turned to stare at his aunt who wore a solemn expression, “Jon, where is your uncle? I need to speak with him.” She asked as his brows furrowed when he noticed her brisk movements, she was always gentle in her touches, now it seemed as if she was anxious.

“He went to see a maester.” He responded as he eyed her, her nails peeling off bits of skin from her fingers as a grim smile curled across her face, “is something going on?” He asked which made her eyes sweep over him in an instant.

“Of course not, sweetling. Your parents are returning soon, there is a lot to do since the Baratheons will be here soon. I just need to speak to your uncle about that.” She explained. Her hand cupped his cheek before caressing her thumb underneath his eye as he leaned his jaw more into her touch, “do not worry.”

And with that she left, leaving Jon only with the smell of her sweet scent behind. He then turned around with one hesitant look over his shoulders before trotting off towards the art gallery.

Viserys looked up when Daenerys walked into the room, her gown twirling behind her as her skin gleamed, “leave us.” She snapped at the maester that was tending his injuries, her voice was as sharp as her gaze.

“He is nearly done, sister.”

“He can finish later.” She spoke as her eyes followed him out of the room. Viserys hoisted himself against the headboard, his pulse ramming against his ribcage with each movement he made. His entire arm throbbed violently.

“Now, what’s so urgent?” Daenerys’ eyes caught the ceiling as she sat down on the bed, her hand spreading over the sheets.

“Rhaegar is sending me to Essos short after the Baratheons arrive.”

“You’ve just returned.” He frowned, “what is he sending you off for?”

“He told me that it is for commodities, but I don’t believe it.” Daenerys’ voice grew strained as her hands clutched at the sheets, “Stannis Baratheon isn’t a choice for Jon, Viserys, they will tie him into this marriage. So, they want us gone.”

Viserys let out a chuckle, “even if what you say is true, I am still here. If Jon doesn’t want this union, it will not happen.” Daenerys stared at him, her violet eyes growing darker as she shifted on the bed.

She tried to keep her mind from slipping to thoughts of Jon having to bend until he broke into a million pieces, only to fit into standards that were never meant for him. They would ruin him, allow him to burst open at the seams and mould him into a porcelain doll that they so desired, so they could pull at the strings whenever they wanted.

“Daenerys-“

“I should’ve taken him with me, from the moment he was born, and that vile talk of marriage was spread through houses like wildfire. I should’ve taken him in the darkest of nights, cover him in a bundle of blankets and travel as far as I could, to the free cities. He would’ve been happy; he would’ve been _free._ ” Daenerys rambled as her pupils juddered in their irises in fright and regret.

A warm palm pressed itself onto her cheek as she stared at him, “I will not allow them to harm him in any form, Dany. Not even let them lead him into a marriage he doesn’t want or isn’t ready for.” Daenerys gripped at his wrist as her eyes seemed to fill with such fear that it gripped at his throat like a fist tightening around his windpipe.

“If Rhaegar dares to send you away; if he demands it from you, take Jon with you. Slip away at night with him if you must and come find me. Promise me, Viserys.”

Her brother pressed his lips against her forehead before he squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers were trembling, and he was filled with qualms himself.

“I promise.”

* * *

 

“Arya, where are you taking me?” Robb asked as his eyes slid over murals before they landed on his sister’s unkempt hair tied into a knot, that was in need of a clean.

“You shall see.” She hummed as a wide grin was plastered across her face; it made a shiver run across his shoulders, “we are nearly there.”

“I don’t like this.” He voiced out his concern, but his sister did not utter a word as he released a soft sigh in defeat.

They halted at a double white painted oak door, large and holding brass doorknobs as she pushed it open without a hesitation in her step. She gestured Robb to walk in first who narrowed his eyes at her but did as she wished rather reluctantly.

Before he knew it, he was pushed forward as the doors behind him slammed shut. He abruptly turned around to yank at the doorknob, only to find it locked, “Arya!” He yelled at the door before hearing a giggle erupt from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” He heard a voice snap which made him feel as if his stomach was being kneaded brusquely until he felt the content of it rise to his throat.

He looked over his shoulder to see Jon’s honed stare on him, “Arya thinks she is being witty by locking me up here with you.”

“It won’t change anything; I don’t know why she is trying.”

“Because you don’t want to hear a word I say.” Robb fended for himself as he gave the door another yank. Alas, he was stuck with an irritated Targaryen which didn’t elate him in the slightest.

“You shouldn’t have said it in the first place, or is this how they handle things in the North? Being an insolent arse?” Robb could feel heat rise from the back of his neck in exasperation as his fists started to clench beside his body until his knuckles became white and pressed so tightly against his skin that he was almost certain that the flesh would split in two.

“That’s a lot coming from you. If you think I will let you throw insults at me th-“

An impulsive jolt made Jon rise from his seat, his heart hammered into his throat. “I am not throwing insults; I am just telling you the truth of it. Other people say far worse behind your back, at least I tell it to your face that you are horrible at best.”

“I know what they say behind my back.” Robb said through gritted teeth, his muscles were taunt as he tried not to shatter a knuckle on the wall; he had lost one when he was younger in a fit of rage, it never truly healed after that.

“I rather don’t want you to repeat them.”

“I won’t,” Jon shrugged, “I am not as heartless as you.”

“I’m not heartless as much as you love to believe it.” Robb snapped as he just wanted to leave this horrendous room and accept the fact that Jon and he weren’t meant to get along from the start.

“Not entirely perhaps.” Jon agreed as his eyes swept across Robb who slunk more into himself with each passing second, his face became grim.

“Jon.” He sighed. He pressed his fingers onto his temples before giving it a few rubs to alleviate the flaring ache in his head.

“Robb.” Jon mimicked with a tilt of his head as it didn’t seem to bother him.

“We are not children anymore; we can’t keep flying at each other’s throats like this.” Robb reasoned as he threw the white door one last piercing look before taking a few steps closer.

“Agreed. And if it weren’t for your sharp words yesterday than perhaps, we wouldn’t be in this position.” Jon answered before also taking a few steps closer.

He crossed his arms across his chest before staring at him from underneath his lashes, “you are not making it easy on me.” Robb spoke.

“Do I now?” And before Jon could utter another word or even lift a finger, Robb stood only a few centimetres away from him; his breath fanned across his face which made Jon bite his lip before staring into his glimmering eyes.

“I am not a threat to you, I will never be, Jon.” He breathed out as Jon nearly allowed a whimper to rise from his throat.

Jon swallowed, “from this position, it looks like you are.” He whispered. Another waft of strong musk rolled from Robb’s body as it near knocked him over when it crashed into him. His nostrils flared as he chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from curling himself into him like a purring cat that was in need of affection.

Robb took a step backwards which didn’t please Jon in the slightest when the comforting warmth was ripped from him and the smell less adamant, “perhaps we should stay at each side of the room, to not bother one another until Arya opens that wretched door.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea, but then again if you are just going to burn holes in my skull from across the room it won’t be of much use.” Jon shrugged.

Robb was nearly bursting in flames at the unnecessary comment, it was always Jon, Jon that could draw blood from underneath his nails, Jon that had made him feel weak to the knees as a first, and Jon that makes him feel every emotion bounded together in the snuggest ball that burst at any friction.

“No wonder your aunt constantly leaves, I would leave too if someone like you kept twirling around me.” Robb spat as his teeth grounded together.

Jon’s eyes narrowed before his nose curled in fury as his face reddened while white rage coursed through his veins like venom. He pushed Robb to the ground, knocking multiple ornaments to the ground with them as he sat on top of his stomach with his thighs vigorously digging into his sides.

Robb hissed when the back of his skull smacked against the floor, as a few flecks appeared at the edge of his sight.

“Don’t speak about matters you know nothing about!” Jon growled.

“Did I hit a few sensitive spots?” Robb mocked before catching Jon’s wrist that was raised to probably strike the other across the face, but he was before him as Jon squirmed in his grip. He tried to yank his wrist away from his hand, but Robb held on a little longer with a rather gentle grip.

Tears started to gather in Jon’s eyes in utter frustration, “couldn’t you just stay where you were? You have to keep coming back, to keep tormenting my life! I just want to hate you, to hate you with everything in me, but I never could!” He yelled as tears troubled his vision. They started to slide rapidly from his eyes as they fell onto the other’s column of his neck, nearly forming a small well. It felt as if someone had carved into his chest with a knife, leaving only raw holes behind.

Before he knew it, warmth enveloped him as vast arms had slithered around his torso while his face was buried into the crook of Robb’s neck. He felt Robb sitting himself upright as he slid down to settle on his lap, his arms lying limply over his biceps. He tried to blink away the tears, but more floods kept sliding down his swollen cheeks and wetted Robb’s doublet.

He didn’t want to speak; his vocal cords were strained, and he just didn’t want to explain further to Robb. Instead, he buried his face further into his neck as his hands came up to clutch at his shoulders.

He needed the comfort despite it coming from him, his scent soothed him slightly as he dug himself deeper into Robb’s embrace.

Jon’s eyelids felt heavier with each passing second as the thumping of Robb’s heartbeat made his fatigue get a hold of him.

And for once, he didn’t want Robb to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, arya did lock them up in a room together
> 
> also I think I will slip some convos between the targaryen siblings in the upcoming chapters too
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter
> 
> kudos and comments are always very welcomed


	9. Chapter 9

The slight wheeze of Robb’s breath was the only distinct sound in the room as his hand palmed across Jon’s spine, he hoped that it would sooth him. And when he pulled his shoulders from the hug while cupping Jon’s neck to keep it from snapping back or forth brusquely, he noticed that his eyes had fluttered shut and his lips were parted in heavy breathing.

He should’ve suspected it when he had felt his muscles slacken and his breathing seemed to slow, “Jon, you have to wake up.” He muttered softly while giving the back of his neck a gentle squeeze, but it only made Jon let out a whimper in discontent.

“You should move to your chamber.” He reasoned, but Jon’s eyelids twitched as it showed his sclera briefly between slits before they slipped shut once more.

“Jon.” He grunted out when the omega squirmed out of his grip to settle against his chest, his nose brushing against the column of his neck.

Robb would’ve rolled his eyes if it wasn’t Jon snuggling closer into the warmth of his embrace. He had been bold before; not concerning himself when he shoved a girl from his lap who had bestowed him with her presence which he didn’t desire at one of the feasts at Winterfell.

He unclasped the cloak from around his shoulders to carefully wrap around Jon’s frame who nuzzled his entire face into the fabric in an instinct, “I can walk.” Jon said in between his slipping fatigue.

“Alright, walk then.” Robb offered, but Jon’s body went completely limp once more which made him shake his head in disbelieve. He hooked his arms underneath his kneecaps before confining his shoulders in his other arm, his head pressed against his chest before he deliberately stood from the ground.

Jon was extremely light, much to Robb’s astonishment. He made sure that Jon’s head was securely tucked into his chest before making his way towards the white doors. He gritted his teeth when the door opened as easily as a puff of wind, as he realised that they probably have sat there unbeknownst of the door being unlocked.

Robb felt quite relieved to find out that barely any servants were wandering along the corridors, nor any of Jon’s relatives. Viserys would’ve strangled Robb where he stood if he saw Jon in his arms; lying completely motionless at that.

He hurried down a flight a of stairs before trotting over cream coloured tiles that were so pristine that he could nearly see his own reflection as he passed. He had to squeeze himself between small corridors, nearly tearing off tapestries with the tips of Jon’s boots, he ascended a few stairs and probably lost the route to Jon’s chambers more than once. But he eventually had found his chambers as he stepped inside a spacious room, the curtains swaying in the soft breeze.

The room was coated in cream coloured tints which made it seem even larger than it already was. Long fingers of sunlight crept over the floor as he gently lied Jon down onto his bed, his hands worked to pull off his boots before guiding him underneath the covers, forgetting that his own cloak was still around the smaller’s frame.

“We have to talk.” Jon muttered in a sleepy haze, his eyelids refusing to reveal his grey eyes.

“I know.” Robb responded, “but you need to rest first.”

It was silent on Jon’s end as he took it as a sign to leave the room. When his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, he allowed his gaze to fall on the lump on the bed one last time before finding himself on the other side of it with a deep breath being released from his lips.

His feet started to move to find Arya, that wretched girl had no right to lock them up together, no matter how deep their dismay with each other was rooted. He knew that he was going to tell their parents what she had been doing without their knowledge, all her ministrations with her stick and how she refused to even dress as a lady whenever they turned their heels. His muscles became taut with each step he took forward in search of his little sister.

His teeth grounded against one another when the heat gripped at his throat, his leather collar bit into his skin as sweat spread across his neck down his spine. He could hardly bear the suffocating heat anymore, it seemed to get worse with every day that passed.

He found Arya in the gardens, sweeping her stick around as if she tried to strike phantoms, “what have you done?” Robb asked, splitting through her concentration. She lowered the stick before her gaze met her brother’s, who seemed irritated at best.

“I just tried-“

“You tried to stick your nose in matters that weren’t yours to interfere with.” Robb snapped at her as her eyes became as wide as large buttons.

She threw her stick to the ground with the force an eleven-year-old could muster. Her face morphed into a scowl she always gave Sansa whenever she was being praised by the Septa at being a proper lady.

“I just wanted to help.” She said as she stepped forward, not minding her step as her make-shift sword snapped in two beneath her sole. Her expression grew glum when she glanced at broken branch at the tips of her feet.

Robb’s ire melted from his face when he saw how dejected she became. He released a breath before running his palm across the bridge of his nose, “we don’t need your help.”

“You do!” She exclaimed, but before she allowed her tongue to waggle too much, she bit down onto her bottom lip.

Robb’s fingers tugged brashly at his collar that left red stripes across his white skin, “Arya.” He sighed which made him nearly sound like their father, after he had a long day of work and grew exasperate with one of his children. He would always sigh and rub his head in thought while they knocked their knees together in anticipation for what he might put on them as punishment, but Ned was always gentle. With everyone except Robb.

Arya recalled how thunderous his voice was when Robb dared to put a toe out of line, she was certain that she felt the ground in Winterfell shudder underneath her feet. And when Robb left his solar, he did not utter a word to anyone, not even to his siblings.

His voice cut through her thoughts as her gaze met his, “promise me that you won’t interfere anymore.” His eyes were hardened as his hands gripped at her shoulders quite firmly to heighten his chances of allowing it to seep through his sister’s mind, “promise me, and I will give you a wooden sword to practice with.”

The glum expression grumbled from her countenance as it revealed a pensive gaze, her eyes were glazed with thought and her brows scrunched every so lightly, “I promise,” she spoke before a grin curled onto her face, “if you and Jon teach me how to properly fight as well.”

Robb knew that he had to put his foot down, to decline her demands, and to at least not bark out his answer. But all of his resolve disintegrated like a wall with decay when he saw her big grey eyes staring at him, a gyre whirled in those tempestuous eyes, and he was reminded that Jon had the same Stark eyes that had been raging with anger the last time they had met each other’s gaze.

He breathed out while his hand released her shoulder to run through her unruly black locks, clumps of dirt clung into them as he felt those clumps brush against his skin, “I could teach you myself, is it necessary for Jon to join?” He tried to negotiate.

“You haven’t seen him fight, he’s better than you.” She blurted out as it made her brother’s brows raise in interest. It wasn’t difficult to believe that Jon’s sword skills were unparalleled with how fierce he was, and perhaps Robb was curious to see how he swung a sword.

“Very well then. If that is what you wish, but you should tell him.” He spoke. He huffed out a breath when she leapt into his arms, her face buried into his torso as her body seemed to vibrate with joy while her nose pressed in between his ribs, it left a sore sting behind, but nothing Robb couldn’t handle as his lips curved into a fond smile.

“And don’t tell anyone else.” He chuckled when she nodded her head so eagerly, he thought she would severe her neck. She had the widest grin painted across her face when she pulled away from him, and he realised that he might have a weak for those grey eyes.

* * *

 

Daenerys seemed to be stuck, clamped between two invisible closing pincers, at the thought of how she would bring her departure to Jon. She paced around the room; her white hair twirled off her shoulders while her mind tried to gather suitable words.

“He will never forgive me.” She muttered while she could feel her throat mangle with each second that passed. Her intestines felt like vipers snapping and slithering in their nest as she was left with a gnawing feeling in her belly.

“He will.” Viserys’ voice squirmed between the cracks of her thoughts, “he loves you too dearly.”

Daenerys nibbled at the tip of her thumb before her violet eyes skidded across the room to rest on her brother’s calm face, unblemished from any crevices while her forehead held a few deep lines that were slightly crooked.

“I can tell him.” He offered while his nails nipped at gauzy fabric around his shoulder. The salve on his skin reeked as if someone left buckets of milk out in the sun which caused any appetite to flee from him.

“That would be insensitive. I have to tell him myself.” She encouraged herself while clenching her fist in confidence, but it watered down quickly at the mere thought of Jon’s sunken eyes.

“Very well, but I can come with you.” Daenerys nodded her head, it seemed to sooth her that her brother would be beside her. Her nerves were still prickling in every part of her body, but at least the rampage inside of her skull was brought to ease.

“I would like that.” She responded with an absent smile before bringing her thumb back to her lips to nip on. It had always been a trait of hers, and if Viserys didn’t have difficulty with his shoulder then he would’ve pulled her hand away.

His muscles throbbed when his mind shifted towards his aching bones, Jon had given a few good blows on the same places and Viserys took pity upon anyone that would have to face him in battle. Even more so if they have touched upon his anger.

These bruises weren’t meant for Viserys, and he wondered who angered him to such great extent that he had forgotten who stood before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going to let jon and robb talk things out in this chapter, but on second thought, I didn't like that idea so there is that. it didn't feel right in the tips of my fingers
> 
> also the amount of times I actually have written this chapter before deleting big chunks of it, probably 7 times or smth I am not kidding.
> 
> kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated


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